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The Dougie

I felt so powerless yesterday. And bewildered. And Unsure. With a good ole dose of horror.

My husband and I were watching our son play in our complex’s playground. He wasn’t feeling all that well, and ended up just sitting next to me, on a bench, beneath the shade.

He pointed out the tree, and the birdies, and the squirrel. He was happy, and so was I.

On the other side of the playground I could see a procession coming toward our area. There were about 12 boys ranging in age from about 4-8 and a girl, in a gorilla costume. Forget the fact that it’s Shabbos and she’s dressing up in Purim costumes, and forget that this is a lot of boys and one girl, but focus on my son. He saw the girl, or rather the gorilla and started whimpering

“Ah doogie, Ah doogie!” he pointed and started to cry. He pulled himself closer to me, and I waved my hands to the kids, indicating to stay away. They noted, smiled, and came closer.

I’ve never seen my son scared. He’s as macho as they come. Trips, falls, scrapes, he just brushes them off- literally. He brushes off the dirt, the blood the mess, and continues on. Sometimes he’ll come to me and say,

“Dooty” when his broad strokes don’t get rid of the dirt.

And now my son was cowering, crying,

“Doogie, bye bye, Doogie bye bye”

The kids came even closer.

“Please stay away.” I beseeched. “Don’t you see you’re scaring him, and making him upset. That’s not nice is it?” I reasoned. The gorilla hesitated, but the boys egged her on, and she came even closer.

My kid shrieked more and my husband growled,“Go away now! What do you think you’re doing!” The kids laughed, but dispersed.

My kid was now crying freely, clutching me for dear life, and I wiped away a tear, my own tear.

Later at home, while eating supper, my kid kept going on,

“Doogie go bye bye. Doogie go ‘way!”

And I reassured him that the doggie wasn’t coming back. A few moments respite, and he started on the “Doogie” refrain. This went on for a while.

And that wasn’t all that happened in the park yesterday. My kid was sitting a low ledge on the playground, little feet dangling slightly. A boy of about 5 approached him, stuck his face into his, and then without warning or provocation slapped my kid 5 times across the face. I jumped to my feet (as much as overdue woman can jump) and aggressively marched towards my son (about 20 feet away). The boy saw me approaching and backed off.

“We don’t hit people,” I scolded. “Especially not little kids, that didn’t do anything to you.” He just shrugged his shoulders and walked away. My kid wasn’t really crying, just whimpering a little; he was mostly bewildered.

“Da boiy… da boiy” he repeated. He couldn’t seem to make sense about what just happened to him.

“Da boiy’s” mother had been sitting on the park bench next to me, engrossed in a fascinating conversation about getting children into school. She missed everything. I didn’t fill her in. It didn’t seem worth it, but her lack of awareness seemed to explain the previous “Doogie” incident with my son.

Where are the parents watching their children? Most of them are not present physically. And if they’re there physically, that doesn’t necessarily include mentally.

And with the Gorilla incident, I really don’t get these kids. First preying on a little kid, for G-ds sake he’s not even 2 yet! And then in front of his parents? We were right there! That didn’t stop them for a moment, maybe even gave them more impetus!

And my husband and I felt so powerless. What were we supposed to do? My logical reasoning of “it’s not nice” fell on deaf ears, so did my husband’s. I wanted to do them physical harm, yell at them, but knew it wouldn’t do anything. I’d have love to have chat with their mothers, but they weren’t present, and I’m not totally sure whose children they were.

What should we have done, and how can I protect my child?

He’s such a happy kid, but I’m afraid a few more slaps and “Doogie” incidents and he may turn into them, as a form of self-protection and preservation.

What am I, his mother supposed to do?(Besides for write this post, to vent) What should I have done then?

 
4 Comments

Posted by on June 24, 2012 in Parenting, Slice of Life

 

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Chicago Bulls – 1 Me – 0

Scoreboard-GSIS

Scoreboard-GSIS (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Derrick Rose is injured. Tore his left ACL to be exact. Don’t know what an ACL is, but I do know what it means for me: a grumpy husband.

I never cared about sports. All I ever said was “Go New York!” let the NY teams do well, but otherwise I was none the wiser. The Rangers had their moments while I was growing up, so did the Knicks, the Yankees have had mostly highs, I think, so at least there was always one team to take pride in.

I never listened to a game, cited stats, or knew any name past the ones my brother’s pretended to be while playing whatever sport – outside:

Hockey – Mark Messier, Patrick Roi, and Wayne Gretsky,
Basketball – Michael Jordan (yes, I know he’s not NY, but who didn’t want to be Michael), Patrick Ewing, and whoever else starred in Space Jam,
Baseball – Derek Jeter is coming to mind
Football – ummm Joe Namath?

On our first date, I asked my husband what guys did for hobbies.

“Some of the oilam follow sports,” he answered sheepishly.

“Do you?” I followed up.

“A little,” he replied.

I don’t think I want to know what he considers an avid sports fan to be.

I’ve since become acquainted with the starting line-up of every Chicago team. And besides for that, I’ve also come to care. I check sports news updates, text 4- info for scores, read random sports tidbits on Yahoo news. Not that I care about the sports for the sake of the sport, but I care about my husband, and our marriage.

When the Bulls win or the Bears make a good trade, is a night I can easily say,

“Honey, can you wash the dishes, bathe the baby, and buy me a Hermes scarf?”

When Jay Cutler injured his thumb, and yesterday when Derrick Rose tore his ACL, those were not nights to burn dinner, poke fun at his family, or reveal any indication of happiness on earth.

Chicago teams – YOU SHTUNKY !!! (as my kid would say)

My husband gave up on the Cubs two years ago, finally. But the rest of the teams, the Bulls, Bears, and BlackHawks. Please stop teasing him. Stop doing well, and then choking, or conveniently getting yourselves injured at the end of the season.

I’ve been eyeing a few choice items, and you keep screwing it up!

 
8 Comments

Posted by on April 29, 2012 in Humor, Slice of Life

 

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Marital Fued (food)

I love pizza, yogurt, tacos, coffee, onions, hot pepper, cumin and tomatoes. My husband likes pizza and can tolerate yogurt (in theory) everything else on the aforementioned list is nuclear waste to him: dangerous and garbage.

It’s really normal for people to have different palates and preferences when comes to taste (and smell, we all know the chazal), and I’m not complaining about that…what I am complaining about, well not complaining, but raising a point. Why do I, and most women cook for their husbands taste and not their own?

Yes, of course we want to please out husbands and make them happy. Keep them contented and full, but seriously, I can’t remember the last supper I made with me as top priority. I’d like kid myself that I am just that giving of a wife, but honestly I’m not.

Maybe, I suppose it’s easier to make sacrifices on your own part then expect someone else to do it for you. (Yes, food is a big sacrifice)

I mentioned this to my husband, he heard my point and encouraged me to make supper for myself, this very night.

“Tacos?” I suggested brightly.

“Whatever you want,” he chided.

I perked up, wow, this was beautiful martial giving at work, I knew I married a great guy! “I’m not gonna be home for supper tonight, R’s sheva brachos, remember.” He finished.

Maybe it’s really just that the old adage is right, “The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach” and deep down we instinctively know it’s true, and follow through accordingly.

Whatever the psychology is, I’m having cereal and milk for supper tonight.

 
3 Comments

Posted by on December 1, 2009 in Food, Marriage

 

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Husband Hashpa’ah #2

It’s terrible, since I’ve written the last post, I’ve allowed myself to speak a much more yeshivishe sprach than before. It’s like now that I’ve let the world know that I’m making fun of it, I can say whatever I want.

In any case, here’s Part 2

Part 3 after Yomtov!

Feste – She was wearing Feste shoes, Christian Louboutin, cost an arm and a leg

Yur n’Tzerik – Yur n’Tzerik I’d call her, now I’ll just text her mazal tov.

Musig – The play was so boring, and clichéd, you have no musig of the pathos evoked.

Shtulz – Uch, their so shtulzy, with their kids in Lily matching underwear, I’m not even trying.

Not chal – Don’t show till after ten. It’s not chal until Mrs. K, opens up her mouth.

Matziv – It’s so not a matziv, for G-d’s sake it’s a funeral

Mistama – Mistama she’s not gonna wanna come, do I still have to invite her

Chevtza – She’s a chevtza. Of what? Of garbage.

Spitz – It’s shpitz her to say that and not even realize what she said

Kav – It’s not your kav, I don’t think you should buy it.

Zach – He has this zach about sports, don’t even go there.

Not shayach – You havta read it, it’s not shayach!

Mehalech- she wanted to leave after the chuppa; I told her it wasn’t a mehalech

Sharf – And then she called her stupid, ooh it was “sharf”

Masbir – What I don’t get it, you sign up, you get the discount and then you cancel? And they don’t chap? You have to be masbir to me

Nogea – I get paid on the books, make to much money; WIC is not nogea

How many did you know on this list?!

 
4 Comments

Posted by on October 9, 2009 in Jewish, Marriage

 

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Husband Hashpa’ah #1

Ever since I’ve gotten married, I expanded my vocabulary. This is of course encouraged by all educators, as it broadens the mind and enables a person to communicate more accurately and effectively. It’s also a great way to look smart and intimidate people when need be. However, I’m not sure my newly acquired lexis, will garner me much fear and respect. You see, I’ve learned to speak yeshivish, courtesy of my husband.

I’m sure you understand that there are several levels in increasing one’s vocabulary: there is recognizing the word while reading, using the word in writing and last using the word in your own speech.

It’s not just that my husband uses these words and I understand him. But even further, I’ve found these words creeping into conversations with my friends, who are, well, far from yeshivish. I’m finding it mildly amusing, but mostly bemusing as I feel my IQ dropping by the idiom.

I compiled several examples of my lapses in to “yeshivish” for your entertainment….I’m too self depreciating, I know :)

Maskim – I’m not Maskim to that style, navy and black does not match

Chutsh – He said no, after 6 dates? Did he chutsh give a decent reason

Lmaaysa – She thought she was going to BJJ, then she figured Bnos Sarah, l’maaysa, she’s in Machon Half Day and Touro

Ein hechi nami – I’m not, not going with you, ein hachen ami, I’m just not coming, I don’t feel well

Lechoyra – She seems like a nice girl, Lechoyra, but honestly, I don’t really know her

Epes – It has epes a design on the skirt, real nice.

Be’eztem – It’s a nice idea to buy a 16 piece serving set by Noritake, but be’etzem I don’t think it’s gonna work out, kollel budget, remember?

B’kiztur – ….she told her that she didn’t mean that, but she thought that she said she did and around and around, whatever, b’kitzur, they’re not talking

Ch’kav – ooooh, that salad bowl is ch’kav…I like those details, don’t think I’ve ever seen that combination anywhere

Mudne – she said that? Really? That’s mudne, why would they do that?

Shvacha meysos – She said she worked on it for hours, look at it, shvacha meysos, she dumped it together in five minutes

Uber – I wanted to buy that ring, uber I knew my Rabbi was getting me something for yomtov so I just waited

Raya – Ye….can you tell me about Chanche Bronche? She’s very hardworking…ye, and creative….can you give me a raya?

Klering – I’m going to my in-laws for the first days; we were klering on going the second days, but I have to be back for work

Dveilah – I’m looking for a job, dveilah, I’m brushing up on my culinary skills.

UpShlug (shlug someone up) – The salesperson tried giving me a million and half stupid reasons why it looked great on me, and that I should buy it, but I had no patience and she was making me nervous, so I shlugged her up on every point….ooh it felt good…Good thing I don’t shop there that often

Zicher – He’s zicher gonna want to come home, so I’ll have to cook supper anyway

Ten points for you if you can define each word I used. Have fun in the comments!

Part 2 in 2 days.

 
17 Comments

Posted by on October 7, 2009 in Jewish, Marriage

 

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